


A second-hand emotion

by Mossgreen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Master/Slave, Non-Sexual Slavery, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: Master is not in a good mood. Ven is determined to do something about it.(Falls betweenAn Afternoon of WorkandVesperna at the Atrium Vestae)





	A second-hand emotion

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh. I've never found it so hard to title one of these!! 
> 
> Apologies to Imperial_Dragon; I hope this ties in with what you have planned for Imperial Earth! (I'm sure it won't take a rocket scientist ti figure out the particular bit I mean.)
> 
> And for the rest of you - if you've not read the other things in this universe, check out Imperial_Dragon and Vitzy - their work is included in the 2770 ab urbe condita collection. You won't be disappointed!

It had been one of _those_ days for everyone, as far as Ven could tell. Even with all the notes and listening in to whatever was being discussed, Ven had not really been able to help his master, who was looking more and more annoyed as the day wore on, which absolutely could not be good news for Ven later on. As the day wore on without any real improvement, Ven decided to take matters into his own hands – subtly, of course. There would be nothing worse than his master realising he was being manipulated, even if it was for his own good. He might not appreciate the gesture, but Ven could try, at least. And if it didn't work, he was likely to get a paddling either way; he would at least like to attempt to deflect it by offering an alternative.

Even as he knelt on his cushion beside his master's chair, tenseness and annoyance radiating from his master in waves that were practically neon-coloured to any slave with half an ounce of self-preservation, he quietly opened a second app on his tablet, one that his master had recently installed for him. He quietly wrote _On our way home. Please have a basin and a jug of hot water ready in Master's room for when we get in_ , the movements of the stylus looking as though he were still taking notes. He did not send the message just yet; he would not do that until they were actually leaving, there were too many potential delays between packing up and actually heading home.

Eventually, the meeting was over and everyone filed out, except Ven's master, who leaned back in his chair, irritation sparking off him. Ven closed his tablet, rose quietly to his feet and began gathering his master's things together, glancing at his master as he did so, prepared for the order to stop, or to strip, or whatever.

"You're a good boy, Ven," his master said, causing Ven to stop and look at him again. He still had his eyes closed, and still had that crease between his brows that never boded well for Ven.

"Thank you, Master," he said, cautious, intrigued by his master's use of _puer_ rather than the far more usual (and distinctly more sexual) form _pusio_. There was a tautness about the set of his master's shoulders that Ven did not like the look of – for one thing, he would end up as stiff as a board if he did not relax, for another, if he kept holding himself like that, he would _stay_ irritated (or angry or whatever his current mix of emotions actually was) and Ven would probably end up taking a good flogging or spanking, just because he was there and his master could take his irritation out on his slave where he couldn't take it out on the actual citizen (group of citizens) who'd led to this mood in the first place.

"Would my master like a drink?" he enquired, still cautious, taking refuge in the formal third person form of speech he rarely ever employed, except when the more direct form was likely to add to his master's out-of-sorts state of being.

"No," Master said shortly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I will not be going to the baths this afternoon, either. You may inform Cnaeus Tanicius Gracchus that I shall have to reschedule our meeting for next week."

"Yes, Master," Ven said, opening his tablet again and altering his own message slightly before composing a new one to the citizen in question.

He put his master's laptop, diary and notepad in his secretary's satchel, keeping his own tablet out for a moment; it would take only a second to send his message to Willow and he could then stow his tablet while walking.

He stepped back, eyes lowered, as Master heaved himself to his feet with a sigh. 

"Very well, let's go home."

"Yes, Master."

He quickly pressed 'send' on his message and slipped his tablet into the satchel alongside his master's things, before opening the door for him and following him out.

The pretty receptionist caught his eye as they crossed Phallusy's huge designed-to-impress atrium, and gave him a sympathetic look. Ven had learned, over a period of several weeks, that her name was Alissa Verita, that she was a _prōlētāria_ \- one of the lowest class of citizen – having completed a five-year judicial sentence for... something she'd done as a stupid seventeen-year-old – and that, rather than reverting to her birth legal name, she had decided to adopt one her former master's names as any _verna_ would because she wanted to make a clean break from the very silly teen she had been.

Ven was pretty sure that his own master was her patron's patron although he couldn't prove it without knowing her patron's full name, and she seemed disinclined to tell him that, which he could understand.

Ven took his place three paces behind his master's right shoulder as they exited Phallusy to the portico outside, which was jammed (as usual). The walk home through the Forum was much as ever – there were Praetorians outside the Curia, which meant that the Serene Gaius Vitruvius Mellitus Augustus Caesar was addressing the Senate. The Virilis Romanum woman's slaves did not look too happy, which Ven could appreciate; it was grey and damp although the drizzle had petered out. 

Ven was still chilled when they reached home, though, and from the look of things, the cold walk hadn't improved his master's temper either. Why they had not taken a cycleshaw home, he could not say, although Master generally preferred walking between home and the office, even on a dull grey day like today.

The house was warm and welcoming. Even without removing his sandals (his master's slaves were usually barefoot indoors), Ven could feel the warmth of the underfloor heating. 

"Might it please my master to make use of the house _balnea_?" he said, stepping forward to catch the cold damp _pallium_ his master was stripping off, knowing it would otherwise land on the floor.

"Are you saying I am dirty or I smell bad?" his master enquired over his shoulder, his tone hard, as he led the way to the _tablinum_. Ven passed the _pallium_ to Moss, who had stepped forward silently to relieve him of it.

Master stopped by the desk and turned to face Ven, who lifted his eyes to meet his master's. They were chilly, although with a look in them that somehow emboldened Ven to say, "No, Master. You look cold, it would be a pleasant way to warm up."

He dropped his gaze again, finding the patch on the mosaic that had been repaired (the red tiles used didn't quite match the red elsewhere in the border), and was startled by a brief laugh from his master.

"You crafty thing. Very well; I suppose work will keep for a bit."

Ven set his satchel down on the desk and followed his master across the atrium to the bath-house, catching Junio's eye on the way.

"Could you put a towel in the _frigidarium_ and then find Master's indoor sandals and a fresh tunic? I think the blue one, in heavy linen – it's too cold for a summer one."

The request took a moment to pass, and then Ven could turn his attention back to his master, placing his belt and tunic in a cubbyhole before kneeling to remove his sandals, trousers and underwear. Removing his own clothing and sandals took only a minute and he wrapped a towel around his own waist, found a pair of bath-house slippers each and took an oil-bottle and strigil, following his master into the warm _tepidarium_ , with the fountain splashing gently in the corner.

The basin and jug of water had been placed beside Master's preferred bench, with a folded towel. Master sat down with a sigh, which didn't sound like annoyance but more a sound of relaxation, of pleasure. Ven knelt, poured the water into the bowl and slid it into place in front of him, lifting his master's feet into the water.

His master's mood seemed particularly brittle today and Ven had no intention of taking any sort of whipping for it if he could avoid it. Taking a whipping because his master wanted to give him one and enjoyed it was one thing, taking a whipping because it might improve his master's temper to take it out on someone else was quite another – Ven had been subject to enough of those in his life that he didn't want to take any more if he could help it. Though Master Drusus didn't really seem to be _that_ sort of master, but you could never really be sure, when you were a slave.

The water was warm, almost hot, on Ven's own chilled hands, and he took the time to soap and wash his master's feet, warming his own hands as he did. Some people found this sort of thing sexually exciting, he knew, although he did not really understand that aspect of it himself. 

"Ven."

He looked up, instantly alert. "Yes, Master?"

"Call one of the slaves in from the atrium."

Ven stood, touched the relevant button on the intercom panel, and returned to what he was doing, almost at the same moment as Moss appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Master?"

"Fetch me the latest issue of _Vincula_."

Ven looked up, caught Moss' eye, and mouthed, "Side-table, Master's couch, atrium."

Moss nodded once. "Yes, Master."

He was back only moments later, with the magazine in his hand. It was a thick, glossy thing, with its distinctive black-and-white cover photograph – far higher quality than Ven's preferred reading material, and with a cover price to match.

It seemed Master was beginning to relax as he opened the magazine, ignoring Ven's continued ministrations. Not that Ven particularly minded; there were times it was better not to have his master's attention, after all.

He dried his master's feet off, setting the basin aside and reaching for the oil-flask, tipping a little oil into his hands to begin to give him a foot-rub. There was another satisfied sigh above him and he hid a smile, continuing to massage, moving slowly up to Master's calves, which were always tight.

"Might it please my master to lie down?" he asked after another few minutes. The magazine was lowered and his master looked down at him. Ven caught his lip between his teeth momentarily before Master nodded and repositioned himself to lie on the bench on his stomach. Ven stood, and began to massage his owner's shoulders, which were tight as anything. 

There was a groan as Ven worked, easing tight muscles and working out knots and kinks. He would have to try to find a few minutes some time and ask Moss to do his own shoulders, he thought, though when he would have the chance was anyone's guess.

Master looked and sounded much more relaxed when he finally allowed Ven to follow him to the _caldarium_. There wasn't really much for Ven to do here; normally Master would share the room with friends (most days he went to one of the public baths anyway, to meet friends or business acquaintances), but the silence was kind of soothing, especially with the splashing of the fountain in the _tepidarium_.

Ven hadn't been given a specific task to do, so he just stood by the wall, hands clasped around the oil-bottle and strigil, and tried to practise one of the mental exercises in the most recent issue of _Ave! serve_ while his master read his own magazine. His thoughts kept wandering, though and eventually he gave up and just thought. His master no longer seemed tense or irritated by everything and nothing, which had been Ven's goal. The crease between his brows had smoothed out, and he looked a lot more relaxed than he had even that morning.

Whatever had caused the irritation had started that morning, before they'd even left the house. The meeting (with several bickering citizens who hadn't listened to anyone else's points of view) hadn't helped, but the problem had really started that morning. There had been a message – from Caesar himself, or someone close to him. Someone with the authority to use the Imperial Eagle in their messages, anyway. Ven hadn't a clue what it was about, but it obviously hadn't been a summons (at least, not one demanding his presence immediately, today), and nor did Master look worried (well, not nervous or anxious, anyway – not like a slave who was in trouble, which was Ven's only real comparison when it came to that sort of thing).

It was a puzzle to solve later, when he had more pieces. Ven went back to his mental game now that he had resolved the distraction.

Eventually, Master closed his magazine. He didn't need to snap his fingers to get Ven's attention (which didn't stop him doing so, of course), he had it the second he shifted his position. Oiling and scraping his master was easy enough, of course, and once that was done he followed his master through to the _frigidarium_ , trying not to shiver after the heat of the _caldarium_. Master dropped his towel and slipped into the pool, hissing between his teeth at the cold water as Ven picked the towel up and folded it, setting it aside before resuming his position by the wall.

"Pet," Master said, resting his arms on the edge of the plunge pool and looking up at him.

"Master?"

"Have you ever served alongside an untrained _reus_ or _nexus_?"

"Untrained? No, Master," Ven said, trying not to look as taken-aback as he felt at the question, which had come from nowhere. It was another piece of the puzzle, but he couldn't tell how it fit.

"Hmm." Master shrugged and turned back for another brief swim, leaving Ven to admire his trim figure without worrying about drawing unwanted attention. His master was good-looking enough, Ven supposed, though he wasn't sure whether that made it easier or harder to deal with being his _concubīnus_.

Being attracted to your master couldn't hurt, really, he thought, although he really wasn't sure that he would label his own admiration of his master's form 'attraction'. Even 'admiration' was too strong a word, really, although there was certainly some of that involved. You could admire someone physically without being attracted to them, though, surely? And objectively speaking, there was no harm in thinking your master was good-looking. Objectively speaking.

He reached for the towel as his master emerged from the water, busying himself with drying him off, keeping his eyes lowered and his face blank.

They passed through to the changing room again. Ven dropped the towel into the laundry hamper, and reached for the clean tunic Moss had brought in, settling it over Master's head, passing his belt to him and kneeling to lace his indoor sandals. 

There was a clean tunic and under-tunic in the cubbyhole where he had left his own damp clothing earlier and he dressed himself, grateful for the small gesture. 

Moss approached as they emerged back into the atrium. " _cena_ is ready, Master. Where do you want to eat?"

"Out here will do nicely – and you may eat your own. I will let you know when I wish the table cleared," Master said. 

Ven flashed a quick hand-signal, the open palm up indicating _Gratitude_ , to Moss as he caught his fellow slave's eye.

"Junio will wait on me during dinner, you eat your own, then shower, pet," Master said as Ven readied himself to serve or pour drinks, whatever Master wanted.

"Yes, Master," he said.

It was nice, to be able to eat with his fellow slaves, but the meal was over too quickly. He headed to the showers, turning the temperature up high and paused under the spray, just... being. 

He couldn't waste time, though, and washed quickly but thoroughly before drying himself off and heading back to the atrium, passing Junio on the way. He was a little astonished to be told to grab something to read, if he wanted to, and found himself passing the evening sitting on the floor in front of his master's couch, the television on and his master playing with his hair (which always went fluffy when it dried, unless he used a bit of product in it, but he almost never did that).

This was nice, he thought vaguely, turning the page. Sweet domesticity. Too nice. Too easy to get used to.

He stared down at the page in front of him. An interview with someone on acclimatising after being sentenced to slavery by the court. 

_"The Serene Emperor's decision today will effectively begin closing the gap between how the courts deal with the rich and privileged members of society and those who have come to such a pass for whatever reason..."_

Hmm. Another piece of the puzzle. Perhaps. 

Ven had no idea what the time was, or how long they had been there in quiet peaceful domestic bliss when the television blinked off. Ven closed his magazine (the third one of the evening), despite being halfway through a sentence, all his focus on his master again.

"Bedtime. We have a busy day tomorrow," Master said. 

"Yes, Master," Ven said, getting to his feet and shifting things out of the way so his master could stand.

Evening ablutions didn't take long, despite Ven's standing orders to give himself an enema before bed, as well as first thing in the morning. He laid his master's sleep-tunic out, hanging his blue linen one up; it was still fresh enough to have a full day's wear without needing to be washed first. He undressed himself, and turned to the mattress in the corner.

"Pet."

He turned. "Master?"

"In here, pet." His master had turned down the bedclothes in a silent command and Ven obeyed.

"Good boy."

He was pulled in close, his master's arms around him, and he fell asleep to the sounds of his master's breathing, and the house-slaves cleaning the atrium before they went to bed themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
>  _puer_ \- boy. The word refers to a male child, and was also used to refer to or address slaves  
>  _pusio_ \- boy, lad, little boy. Related etymologically to _puer_ , but often had a distinctly sexual or sexually demeaning connotation  
>  _prōlētāria_ \- the feminine version of _prōlētārius_ , a member of the lowest class of citizens  
>  _verna_ \- a slave born in his master's home  
> Virilis Romanum - ‘manly Romans’, a conservative pressure group who want to return the Empire to its Golden Age somewhen in the 8th century when men were men and slaves were slaves (borrowed from Imperial_Dragon)  
>  _balnea_ \- private bath-house  
>  _pallium_ \- colourful outer garment worn by citizens, less formal and cumbersome than a toga, and could be worn in a variety of ways, depending on personal preference.  
>  _tablinum_ \- the study or office of the master of the house  
>  _frigidarium_ \- cold room of a Roman bath-house  
>  _caldarium_ \- the hot steam room of a Roman bath-house  
>  _tepidarium_ \- warm room of a Roman bath-house  
>  _reus_ \- the accused, defendant, culprit, criminal – I have chosen to use this word to refer to those sentenced to slavery for a crime  
>  _nexus_ \- a debt-slave  
> concubīnus - male bed-slave  
>  _cena_ \- dinner


End file.
